


The Bear and The Wolf

by insominia



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: M/M, Size Kink, Vulpes thinking everything is stupid but doing it anyway, age kink, submissive Vulpes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 23:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14199945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insominia/pseuds/insominia
Summary: While incognito on the strip Vulpes bumps into an old friend and rekindles an old flame.Originally on the NFKM





	The Bear and The Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the original thread on the new fallout kink meme here, with the prompt that started it 
> 
> https://newfalloutkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1168.html?thread=316560#cmt316560

It was foolishness on Vulpes part. This was behaviour unfitting of the lowest legionary let alone the highest of the frumentarii, but he couldn't help it. He glanced around himself once more, as though afraid someone would recognise him now of all times before he stepped into The Aces.   
  
It was not as busy as he would have liked. It was easier to fade into the background with crowds, but with everyone's eyes on the stage, nobody noticed him take a seat at the back and signal to the barman for service. Vulpes politely joined in the applause as a group of mediocre tuxedoed dancers finished their routine and had to stop himself from smiling as the man they called the Lonesome Drifter took their place in the spotlight. The man lifted his guitar, started plucking at the strings and Vulpes was transported.  
  
The Legion had no music, not like this anyway. Deep choral chanting that fired the blood was good before battle or reliving past glories, but they had nothing as delicate as the strings at the Lonesome Drifter's hands. It was incredible to Vulpes that such a man, who had clearly experienced the wastelands at their worst, could create such a wondrous harmony with such a fine instrument and such calloused fingers.   
  
Entranced as he was by the music, he was still a frumentarii and he snapped his attention to the seat beside him when someone presumed to join him. Vulpes was too experienced to show surprise, but in this instance, it took considerable resolve not to flinch in his chair.   
  
The NCR Ranger who now sat beside him seemed burlier than when last they had met. The frown lines around his eyes were deeper, and his face revealed the hardships of weathering the Mojave's moods with only a few ramshackle sheets of metal to protect him. Vulpes could still remember trying to make himself as small as possible against those sheets, hoping they would keep out the worst of the storms. He might have had more luck if his hands hadn't been tied up. Or his legs.   
The Ranger had picked him up near Searchlight, Vulpes had been younger then. Stupid. And the result was a three-week stint tied up in the NCR excuse for a lookout staring down at Cottonwood Cove. Three weeks before Vulpes escaped.   
  
The man was regarding him with grey eyes before he grunted, "you s'posed to be in disguise, 'cos that hat makes you look ridiculous." Vulpes made no reply as the barman returned to take the Ranger's order. "Whisky. Bring the bottle. And some wine for my friend here." He arched an eyebrow, "assumin' you still drink wine?"  
  
Vulpes' nod was almost imperceptible, though he hadn't quite figured out what he was going to do. One word from the Ranger would be all it took to have him executed on the spot. For all the Strip's protestations of neutrality, the NCR had an embassy here while the Legion had to work in the shadows. Neither could Vulpes simply kill him where he sat for the reprisals would be swift. The man caught his eye, "oh don't worry none, I'm not gonna call no one. I only came for the music," his eyes bored into Vulpes' seeing everything, as they always had, "much like yourself."   
  
Vulpes scowled and turned his attention to the stage, trying to focus on the performer before him and not the memory of the man beside him, strumming the same tune beside a campfire.   
  
"Besides," the Ranger continued, lighting up a cigarette, "I let you go once, remember?"  
  
Vulpes spun his head so fast to look at him it was a wonder he didn't get whiplash, "let me go?!" he hissed, indignant, "I escaped."   
  
The man looked as though he were suppressing a laugh. Badly. "Uh huh. Sure you did. You just happened to escape about the same time I stopped giving enough of a shit to hunt for two. Bout the same time I realised NCR wasn't sending no one for you, and I had three days water left. But sure, you escaped."  
  
Falling into chastised silence, Vulpes mind refused to acknowledge that it had been unusual for the Ranger to have left his bonds so loose...and his gear so close.   
  
"Not that I wasn't sorry to see you go," the Ranger added, somewhat mischievously, somewhat thoughtful.   
  
Turning his attention back to the stage Vulpes usually composed face was flushed with what might be considered shame, and something else. "I don't know what you mean." The Ranger reached over to pour himself another shot, reminding Vulpes of just how much larger than him he was. Vulpes' cheeks flushed a deeper red at the unwelcome memories the realisation prompted.   
  
"Oh? That how Legion prisoners get by usually? Getting-" he broke off in a sudden smile, his eyes drawn to the stage as the Lonesome Drifter started strumming the opening chords of New Vegas Valley. Both men sat and listened, both extremely aware of what they were listening to.   
  
 _"For a long time my darling I've waited, for the sweet words you never would say..."_  
  
It must have been over a fortnight since Vulpes had woken up beside the Ranger, his hands tied and legs bound. A fortnight where a mutual understanding, albeit a grudging one had formed between them, along with the even more annoying realisation that they could be said to enjoy each other's company. Maybe even liked each other.   
  
 _"So come sit by my side if you love me..."_  
  
The Ranger had sung this the first night they - ' _stop it_ ', Vulpes snarled at himself.   
  
 _"Just remember the New Vegas valley and the drifter that loved you so true."_  
  
Both men remained in silence for some time after the song had finished. The Drifter finished his set, left the stage and was replaced by a dreadful comedian, but still, they didn't speak. They carried on drinking, though Vulpes found he couldn't quite meet the older man's eye, though the Ranger didn't seem to have the same problem.   
  
The bottle of whisky was almost gone, but the Ranger was giving no indication of it having affected him at all. "Room 118," he said casually and Vulpes raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I'm upstairs. Room 118. Join me." It wasn't a request.   
  
When he found it, Vulpes' voice seemed very far, "and why exactly would I do that?"  
  
The Ranger poured his last shot, "'cuz I let you go and having shot your scrawny ass whenever you've wandered up here. Though...I p'rolly should have just for that hat. 'Cuz you never did tell anyone that the NCR had a lookout over the Cove even though you know it's still there. But mostly coz I told you to, and I know you love doing what you're told."   
  
Vulpes remained expressionless despite the sudden frisson of heat that shot through him. If the Ranger noticed he didn't let on. He downed the final shot and rose, "oh and leave the hat." He took his leave, Vulpes said nothing, opting instead to scowl. To think that he, the greatest of Caesar's spies could be so easily swayed. He had a number of informants to meet tonight, not to mention the almost legendary Courier was supposedly back on the Strip and would need observing. Besides, even if he had nothing else to do he had a fine suite in the Ultra-Luxe waiting for him. Taking charge of where their agents lodged had its perks. Why was he even justifying this? It meant nothing. The Ranger meant nothing. The whole thing meant nothing.  
  
It was still early by New Vegas standards when Vulpes found himself on the threshold of Room 118 of the Tops. He was still scowling, in fact, he hadn't stopped, not even when he'd made the brief stop to the Ultra Luxe to remove his hat. For a moment he prevaricated at the doorway, should he knock? His scowl deepened, this was stupid. Everything about this was stupid.

He stepped inside without knocking. The Ranger was sat in one of the more uncomfortable looking chairs, his own hat discarded along with his bulky NCR coat. He leaned back, a cigarette lazing between his lips, his eyes shut as though sleeping. Vulpes knew better.  
Without opening his eyes the Ranger removed the cigarette and dropped it into an ashtray beside him. Vulpes hadn't moved from the doorway. Neither budged. Vulpes was still convinced this was stupid.   
  
Then, after an eternity, the Ranger raised a hand and beckoned him to approach. In an instant Vulpes was beside him, leaning down and kissing him. The Ranger still hadn't opened his eyes.  
  
He tasted of cigarettes and faintly of whisky, his stubble rubbing against Vulpes' face. He hadn't had stubble last time, it had been a soft, full beard. Vulpes preferred it like this, he liked the light scratches wherever he moved. His presence didn't seem so stupid now.   
  
It should have been uncomfortable for Vulpes, leaning over like this, bent over the chair, hunched to better access the Ranger's lips, while the Ranger hooked an arm around Vulpes' neck. From somewhere within him, Vulpes heard his own moan and felt the Ranger smile against him.   
  
Gently he was pushed away while the Ranger chuckled to himself, "I'd forgotten how easily you lost control."   
  
Vulpes' face contorted with annoyance and he pulled himself away, but the Ranger was only more amused. He stood, and Vulpes realised he'd forgotten just how much bigger than him the older man was. After all the years that had passed, the Ranger had bulked out further, with a physique that looked like it could knock out a deathclaw, while Vulpes, however strong he was, had remained slight.   
  
Vulpes glared at the man, though his look was returned with one of amusement. "This is ridiculous," he scoffed, but the Ranger was already closing the distance between them and with seemingly little effort pushed Vulpes to the wall, pinning him there. The Ranger was at his neck, bristling against it with rough kisses and Vulpes told himself that he definitely wasn't leaning into the motions.   
  
At one point he tried to push the Ranger off, only to get a harsh bite for his trouble and before he could stop himself, Vulpes had let out a more than audible groan at the sensation and was pressing his body against the other man, rubbing against him like a cat. Or perhaps a fox.   
  
It had been different at the sniper's nest. Back then it had been a spontaneous explosion of frustration and hatred. It had been swift and hurried given how exposed they had been. Here they had no such concerns and the Ranger was clearly making the most of it. He showered Vulpes with kisses and the occasional nip, holding him so tight there would be bruises the following day.   
  
A shirt fell to the floor as the Ranger nibbled his way across the smaller man's chest. Vulpes gave another moan.   
  
"You like that?" the Ranger murmured, "scum."  
  
He bit Vulpes' shoulder painfully, but it only served to cause his legs to buckle and another cry.  
  
Vulpes' hands set to work removing the Ranger's clothes, though he could barely control them given how desperately he wanted to feel their skin against each other.   
  
With their clothes discarded in a pile, Vulpes beheld the body of his one-time captor, remembered the patchwork of scars that testified to a life in the wastes, and of course the magnificence of his cock. He fell to his knees before it and eagerly set to work devouring it. It was too big for him to take though he tried, his own arousal straining as the Ranger's hand came to rest on the back of Vulpes' head. He said, "well...I'd forgotten you were at that," but though he tried to sound normal, he couldn't disguise how breathless he sounded. Vulpes cheeks burned with pleasure at the compliment as he licked and lapped the man's length, his hand reaching down to his own.   
  
The Ranger kicked the hand away harshly, "not yet scum. Wait your turn."  
  
A deep groan of annoyance at the denial escaped Vulpes as the Ranger led him back into the room. He wrapped a hand around Vulpes' member, stroking it with firm hard strokes so Vulpes had to bury his face in the man's shoulder.   
  
"Our cup overfloweth scum, where should I take you?" The Ranger asked, nibbling Vulpes' earlobe. "There's a chair, a table, or maybe a sweet thing like you would prefer the bed?"  
  
This time it was Vulpes' turn to bite, but the Ranger remained unfazed. "The bed it is."   
  
He hoisted Vulpes over his shoulder with indecent ease, dropping him harshly onto the bed. "NCR filth," Vulpes spat, as he was flipped over and stubbly kisses planted down his spine. A hand reached around to find his cock.  
  
"Never did get to fuck you last time," the Ranger mumbled, idly holding out a finger for Vulpes to lick, "'know you wanted me too though."   
  
Vulpes moaned again, moans which became louder when the Ranger's finger pressed into him. One finger became two. Two became three, and soon the Ranger was positioning himself over the smaller man. He pushed into him abhorrently slow, while Vulpes moaned so loud he expected security to come check what the matter was.   
  
The Ranger was trying to move slowly but Vulpes was desperately pushing back against him until the man started shushing him, "hey now. You just let me take care of you," he whispered, leaning down to bestow gentle kisses on Vulpes' neck, shoulders and anywhere else he could reach.   
  
" _Filth_ ," Vulpes spluttered, but he relaxed anyway and was glad he did so. The Ranger set a slow, but firm pace, each thrust aimed with deliberate and determined precision while his hand worked Vulpes at the same agonising control.   
  
"You like that, scum?" the Ranger crooned, his pace inevitably quickening as his resolve crumbled at the multitude of groans and cries the man below him was all but screaming.   
  
"Is that all you have, filth?" Vulpes managed to splutter, his words becoming a desperate, strained cry as the Ranger held him firmly and now fucked him with hopeless abandon.   
  
Vulpes saw stars, only dimly aware of the noises he was making, even though they could have heard him from Nelson. He could barely hear the appreciative grunts from the Ranger behind him. The Ranger came with a low growl but his grip on Vulpes didn't relent and he stroked him hard until Vulpes' too let go with an almost animalistic scream.   
  
It took Vulpes longer than he'd have liked to recover. It took time for the fog in his vision to clear, his senses to return to him and the intensity of sensation to fade into an uncomfortably warm glow. Gradually, he became aware of the Ranger tracing patterns across his back with gentle, calloused fingers while he hummed a familiar tune under his breath.  
  
"You ok there?" the Ranger asked.   
  
Vulpes shrugged him off, his cheeks tinged with indignity. He rose and made for the pile of clothes. "Don't touch me, filth."  
  
The Ranger laughed but made no move to stop him. "You know, you never did tell me your name."   
  
Vulpes hesitated while drawing on his clothes. "Vulpes."  
  
"Vulpes?" he asked, trying the strange word on his tongue and butchering the pronunciation as he did so. Vulpes deliberately quashed the warmth of hearing his name from the other man's lips.   
  
"My name's Jasper," the Ranger shrugged as though it were no consequence. He slid under the covers and rested his head on the pillow, allowing his eyes to close, "and you're welcome to stay. Vulpes."   
  
The response was a hearty scoff at the thought as Vulpes started buttoning his shirt. He had no intention of staying. He had no intention to have anything to do with this man again, save for maybe hanging him on a cross for his disrespect.   
  
The Ranger's arm naturally came around Vulpes as he slipped into the bed beside him. "Don't say a word, filth," he snarled, resting his head on the muscles of the man's chest.   
  
The Ranger's laugh rumbled through him as he pulled Vulpes close enough for a kiss, "whatever you say,  _scum_."


End file.
